


I Like The Pretty Boys

by Anonymous



Series: Krymménos | Prompt Fills [4]
Category: A - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, Video Blogging RPF, Youtuber RPF
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Boys in Skirts, Canon Related, Clothing is Genderless, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Editor Ethan Nestor, Ethan Nestor In a Skirt, Feminine Ethan Nestor, Femininity, Feminization, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Gratuitous Smut, Hand & Finger Kink, Krymménos, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, Skirts, Smut, Voice Kink, boys loving boys, crankiplier - Freeform, crop tops, feminine clothing, idiots to lovers, soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The assisting editor on Mark's latest project catches his attention, and not just because he's damn good at his job.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Series: Krymménos | Prompt Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176389
Comments: 23
Kudos: 183
Collections: Anonymous





	I Like The Pretty Boys

**Author's Note:**

> As always this work is intended creatively and is not an accurate reflection of nor intended in any disrespect towards the persons mentioned; their family; their friends; their representatives or their significant others. Please do not send this work to any of the aforementioned persons.
> 
> An anonymous commenter asked for Ethan in feminine clothing and being feminised sexually, with fingering and the use of 'pussy'. My lizard went 'huhuhu, smut with plot' and...Ye. Here it is! Anon, I hope you're still around and you see this.  
> -JJH

Checking the time on his phone again, Mark huffed a curse and sped up as much as his legs would let him, gunning for the conference room at the end of the hallway like a man possessed. He was late - so fucking late. He felt like the rabbit in _Alice in Wonderland_. He'd be lucky if they were still hanging around, but _God_ , he hoped they were. This meeting was important and production couldn't really progress without it.

Directing movie-style videos with the aura of gameplay had become one of Mark's favourite things to do. _A Heist With Markiplier_ had been a booming success and so had many of his other spin-offs, alongside several other original concepts he'd finally had the time and money to bring to fruition. It left him with just as little time as he'd had before (perhaps even less, if he was looking at his coffee expenses and being honest with himself) but for once it didn't feel like time wasted; or time used that left him exhausted and unmotivated. 

In fact, he was buzzing with anticipation and delight as he began the set-up process for his latest project. _Darkiplier: World Domination_ was something fans had been begging for since _Who Killed Markiplier?_ had given some real traction to the character.

The project was so large he'd opted to enlist a team of editors to help lessen the workload, having learned his lesson on his past projects. It was why he was scurrying through the halls like some sort of chittering creature, desperately hoping his lateness hadn't prompted them to leave.

He rounded the corner and the doorway loomed ahead and he practically yelled in relief when he heard muted voices inside. He shoved it open and did his best not to drop his coffee, scanning the room. He recognised Amy, sat at the table surrounded by two laptops and an iPad, looking startled at his explosive entry, and around the rest of the room several others were scattered. Another woman with dark hair and thick glasses was leafing through an editorial magazine and a third girl with shorter hair was sat atop one of the desks, decked head to toe in cotton candy colours. 

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I drove my car over a partition and had to push it back over," he announced, collapsing into one of the available seats around the main table. Somewhere in the room someone uttered a soft _holy shit._

"You lifted your car yourself?" came a light voice from across the room and Mark realised with a start that who he'd initially presumed was a girl was actually a boy, black locks curling over his forehead, lithe stomach exposed under his lavender, cropped hoodie. He blinked for a moment then caught himself. 

"Not entirely. I had my neighbour press on the gas a little, but I managed to get her ass up enough that she could roll back off," he noted. The partition had only been the height of a sidewalk, so it wasn't like he'd Hulk'ed the vehicle over his head. As he spoke he took the time to look over the man again, cataloguing his outfit. He was wearing clunky platform sneakers and a lavender calf-length socks, a cotton candy pink skirt and then a lavender sweater that hung baggy on his arms but fitted to the muscles of his upper chest. 

Other than that, he was largely masculine presenting. He had a sharp, angled jaw and toned thighs visible under his skirt, and-

And he was staring straight back, mouth slightly open, thumb hovering forgotten over his phone. 

"I got your text," Amy cut in kindly after a moment, leaning over the table to shake his hand. He tore his gaze away and shifted, casting her a grateful smile. 

"I can't thank you enough for sticking around. I swear this is the first time I've been late to anything in over a year," he informed her, hauling his bag onto the desk and digging out his own laptop. He sipped his coffee while it powered up and found his gaze drifting back to the other boy, just in time to see him not-so-subtly tilt his camera to take a photo. Mark raised his brows, flicking his gaze up to his face, watching a peachy blush spread across his cheeks. 

"It's no trouble, we figured it had to be something important keeping you away. This is Katheryn, by the way, and that's Ethan," Amy introduced, gesturing to the two others in turn. Katheryn offered him a meek smile, glancing his way shyly while Ethan offered him a 'dude bro' nod that was so hilariously out of sync with his soft aesthetic that Mark snorted a little, fighting a grin as he powered up his editing software. 

The meeting got underway pretty quickly; Mark showed them samples and pathways and let them play around, doing his best to stop his gaze from constantly straying towards Ethan, usually catching the man already staring at him.

"I'm not going to lie," Mark began, addressing them all. "This project is huge in terms of editing. By myself it took me around twelve different layers and around eight hours alone just to edit the voice for a ten minute clip. You're going to be pulling all-nighters and basically living at your desks for the duration of the project. When I'm not filming or directing I'll also be doing what I can to lighten the load, but it's going to be a lot. Do you guys think you can handle that?"

"I like when I'm made to work for it," Ethan piped up from his left, lounging lazily in his seat and looking at Mark with his head tipped down a little. "Sign me up."

And was Mark projecting a little, or did that sound somewhat more sultry than a business agreement?

With all of them on board, Mark added them into the group chats and emails and arranged another meeting so they could sign contracts and get the team established, shaking all of their hands in turn. He was packing his bag when Ethan approached.

"Your voice is even deeper in person." Ethan looked surprised at his own voice when Mark looked up, one corner of his mouth lifting. Ethan was blushing again, fidgeting on the spot and doing his best to look anywhere except for Mark. This close Mark could see the barest hint of stubble where he must've shaved the night before and the different hues of his blue-green eyes. 

"Really? I've never noticed a difference," he drawled, deliberately dropping a few octaves. He knew he had a nice voice - deep, somewhere between smooth and rumbling, he'd just never really given it any inherent value. To him it was just sound, something he'd been born with, another tool he could shape his life with. Still, Ethan's tongue slid along his lower lip and his eyes widened a little, pupils dark and blown.

Ethan scampered off after that, dragged away by Amy who wore a secretive smile and a roll of her eyes, mouthing _fanboy_ at him as she ushered her friend out of the door. Mark watched them both go before shouldering his bag, shaking his head in amusement. Truth be told it was still something of a curious novelty to him; having _fans_. He was just a man, sitting at his desk screaming nonsense at a monitor and doing what he could with his miniscule life to make the world a little better. Being accosted by people while he was trying to decide which toilet paper to buy was something he doubted he'd ever really get used to. 

He had a steady stream of meetings and emails that ate up the rest of his day and he did his best to focus on them, shunting aside any distractions. 

The next time he met Ethan he was filming, dressed in a crisp, black suit with his hair styled and his eyes smudged with kohl. He felt too warm and the tie was irritating on his neck but the filming was going smoothly and he wasn't willing to risk jinxing it by undressing. They were starting on the opening sequences and it meant a lot of talking and repeating the same things over and over. Slower, lower, angrier, more sultry. Each take a different vibe.

He was purring into the camera when a flicker of baby blue caught his eye and he had to fight to keep the take, hitching only momentarily before he finished his lines and called cut. The cameraman moved to reveal Ethan leaning back against a foldable desk, watching him intently. He was wearing baby blue yoga pants and a matching shirt, with a glittery white belt, glittery white sneakers and two bows clipped into his hair, above one temple, half white and half blue.

"Cute outfit," Mark noted as he approached, fiddling with his tie to make sure it was straight. Ethan's head ducked for a moment and he shuffled, looking almost embarrassed to be complimented.

"You look like an extra in an MCR music video," Ethan shot back, almost without thinking about it if the look on his face was anything to go by. It startled Mark for a moment before he barked a laugh, reaching up to brush a fingertip along the edge of the liner and shadow around his eye. 

"That's fair," he replied, reaching past Ethan for a glass of water. This close he could see Ethan was also wearing a dusting of blue eyeshadow. Mark had never really put any thought into what anyone wore - it simply wasn't important to him in the grand scale of things. He didn't subscribe to the belief that clothing was limited to male and female, as long as it covered your bits when appropriate. But there was something about how confidently Ethan wore traditionally feminine clothing that attracted his attention. Ethan was utterly unapologetic about his appearance and it was...Refreshing, Mark realised. 

"It's so...It's kinda cool. Seeing you like this, without all the effects," Ethan started casually, getting a water for himself. "And just...Meeting you in general, actually. You're kind of cool. For an old guy," his tone turned teasing and Mark scoffed in mock-offence, shooting a comeback that had them switching to easy, humorous banter. Ethan was so engaging that Mark almost missed it when he was called back to the set, smiling wistfully after he'd excused himself when he realised just how easy it had been to talk to Ethan, to fall seamlessly into a pattern of bouncing off each other. Ethan was quick and witty and unafraid of saying whatever came into his head. 

Ethan stuck around while he started filming again, watching and taking a few photos and videos before he slipped away, presumably to meet up with the other editors to go over what they needed to do once the initial filming was done. 

It became something of a given; that whenever Mark was filming Ethan could be seen sitting in the background watching, even if only for five minutes before he had to get back to work. Each time Mark found himself distracted by whatever Ethan was wearing - more so if it was a pretty little dress or a pair of shorts that accentuated the shape of his hips and legs. Each day he complimented Ethan's outfits, revelling more and more in Ethan's reaction. Ethan remained a little shy at being complimented, but slowly came out of his shell and started making quips about Mark's casual outfits or Darkiplier getup. 

And then came the flirting. Sort of. He honestly hadn't even realised that the banter had transgressed into something a little more...More. 

Maybe it was because of the unashamed way Ethan would sprawl out in a seat, legs parted, dignity only preserved because his skirt fell between his splayed thighs, maddeningly distracting. Maybe it was because as they became friends personal space became something that simply ceased to exist. Mark wasn't ordinarily a fan of being encroached upon if he wasn't in the mood for it, but the proximity with Ethan felt natural. Standing so close their arms were pressed together merely became their new norm, even if it did raise a few brows from the people who knew Mark well enough.

That day, he found Ethan sitting in the editing room, clicking away furiously at an audio file. He was wearing a soft puff sweater that was black on one side and white on the other and a black tennis skirt with two white strips at the hem, a pair of chunky combat boots and frilly, white ankle socks completing the ensemble. He hadn't noticed Mark's arrival so he crept forwards, leaning down slowly until he was near Ethan's ear. "You look pretty today," he rumbled, finding the pitch that Ethan seemed to like the most. The editor jumped in his seat, whipping around, which brought them nose to nose. 

"You're a big, fat, jerk," Ethan complained without heat, swatting at his shoulder. He was wearing a thin flick of winged liner today, with a little touch of white, glittery shadow in the inner corners of his eyes. He smelt like mint and aftershave. 

"Well, if _that's_ your opinion, I'll just drink this basic-white-girl Starbucks myself," Mark huffed in reply, bringing the drink forwards from around his back. Ethan yelped a _no!_ and lunged for it, wrestling it from his grasp and taking a petulant sip. 

"Do you really think I look pretty?" he asked after a moment and Mark gave a low hum, vague enough to neither agree nor disagree even if they both knew better. Ethan went _awwww_ in a high pitch and tipped his head, resting it against Mark's hip for a brief moment. Mark reached out without really putting any thought into it, sliding his fingers into Ethan's hair. There was a slight hint of spray but it was mostly soft and fluffy, and below him Ethan made a soft noise, head tilting into the touch. 

It spiralled from there, really. 

They wedged themselves into one chair whenever seating was limited or Ethan would simply sit on the desk right by Mark, sometimes even behind him with his legs parted, knees resting by Mark's shoulders. Their quick and tactile friendship prompted raised brows and jokes on set that soon earned them the name _Marthan_. Mark's Instagram account now had no small amount of photos of Ethan and Ethan's account was now more than half photos of Mark; usually dressed as Darkiplier with some sassy little caption than made Mark snort as he read it. 

Late nights were typically passed side by side, working in silence or helping each other with editing. Even when they were at home they were usually texting or on a call, the hours passing by unnoticed. Mark couldn't remember the last time that someone had fit into his life so seamlessly; sliding into a space he never knew was there until it was filled and he realised just how empty it had been before. 

"This looks like the start of a Tumblr porno," Wade quipped at them one day, when they were stood talking to each other on set. Ethan was leaning back against the wall, one leg bent lightly, and Mark had opted to lean against the wall with his arm as he spoke, practically on top of Ethan save the scant few inches of space between them. Ethan had gone scarlet and Mark had been left with nothing smart to say in response, realising then just how right Wade was. Him in the Darkiplier getup, Ethan in his pretty little outfits. They looked like those 'alternate aesthetic' couples every teen gushed over.

And not just that, but Mark found words like _pretty, Princess, cute_ and even _babygirl_ seeping into his vocabulary more and more, like automated reflex. The latter had started as a joke but somewhere along the line that had changed too, until it was commonplace for it to slip into conversation. Ethan never told him to stop - on the contrary. Mark knew attraction and arousal when he saw it and Ethan was hardly a professional at hiding his responses. Amidst the starstruck fanboy there was also genuine interest; interest that Mark would only have to make a move to reap.

The first time he came close to it was when the entire crew was crammed into one small room in order to review the finalised footage they had so far, the first four segments of the multi-choice production complete. There were a limited number of chairs and when Ethan slipped inside a minute too late for an actual seat, Mark gave his thigh a pat and waggled his brows. It was mostly a joke, except Ethan just picked his way right on over and took a seat, sinking down onto Mark's leg, letting his own fall apart a little so he was pretty much straddling Mark's right thigh, facing the large projector screen they'd set up for the viewing.

Ethan leaned back against his shoulder, gaze firmly fixed forwards as he ripped into a packet of gummy bears, and after a moment Mark relaxed, adjusting himself to the scenario. It wasn't unpleasant - quite the opposite, actually. Ordinarily this sort of thing wouldn't appeal to him, but he found himself wrapping an arm lightly around Ethan's waist to keep him stable, mind ever so briefly entertaining him with a flicker of what this would be like sans clothing. His cock gave an interested twitch in his jeans and he prayed it was weak enough that Ethan hadn't felt it. 

He was aware that some people were staring but he ignored them, curling his fingers in the soft fabric of Ethan's black dress, doing his best to focus on the footage being played and not the way that Ethan relaxed into him, trusting Mark to keep hold of him, breathing slow and even against him. It made Mark think back to being in a relationship; to the easy company that came with it and the pleasant sensation of sleeping next to someone. 

Of the less innocent sensation of two bodies against each other, how it felt to sink into someone - inch by inch or all at once. It'd been near enough two years since he'd last slept with someone. His then-relationship had ended amicably and he'd filled his time with work and his friends and his projects. 

"You're not even watching," Ethan murmured, and Mark blinked, coming out of his thoughts to glance aside. Ethan was looking at him curiously, so close that Mark could count the little pink marks around his temple. Acne scars from his teenage years, probably. 

"I am _so_ ," he groused back lightly, pinching Ethan's hip and thanking whatever deity was kind enough to have Ethan swat at him rather than squirm away. Now that the thought of nakedness and Ethan combined was planted in his head; Mark couldn't get it out. Not when people were cheering for the footage and congratulating him, not later that night when he lay in bed and stroked his cock, edging himself for almost an hour, and not in the weeks following. 

Especially not when Ethan seemed to be determined to keep the notion at the forefront of his mind. If he'd been confident before he was now _shameless_. Somehow without even intending to be, it seemed. He was always bending over desks to look at people's work or leaning back against tables, legs splayed for the word to see as he talked. Always stretching in his little cropped sweaters so his tummy flexed and elongated and always sucking on straws or chewing on candy laces, all hollowed cheeks and pink tongue. Whenever he called Mark over to look at something he refused to move, so Mark had no choice but to lean over him, often bracketing him in against the table.

Mark was a patient man, rage games aside, but he was fraying at the edges.

It culminated one night, shortly after they got to the midway point of filming and editing. 

He'd been pulling more and more overtime, staying behind after filming to help the editing crew, burning the midnight oil until the rising sun left him with barely four hours to catch some rest before he stepped back into the roles of actor and director. Of everyone Amy was the best at getting him to go home, but she'd left earlier in the afternoon for a dental appointment and there was nobody else here to tell him to go home when he stayed behind yet again, slipping into an editing suite as everyone else piled into their cars and took off.

He'd been there maybe an hour when the door opened and Ethan slipped inside. He had a warm coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other, looking soft and somewhat sleepy. He was wearing black thigh-highs and his black striped skirt, outfit completed by an oversized, powder blue sweater and matching platform sneakers. "Hey, Princess," he greeted tiredly. "What're you still doing here?"

"Your car was still outside and I know if you're left alone you'll still be here when we all come to work in the morning," Ethan hummed in response, padding over and leaning against the desk besides him, backs of his thighs against the polished wood as he held out his wares. "Here. If you're gonna overwork yourself, at least fill up the tank". Mark let out a soft sound and downed several mouthfuls of coffee, heaving a sigh as he leaned backwards. The pressure was really crunching down between his project and his other obligations and he could feel the stress creeping up on him.

"You're the best work wife," he informed Ethan, rubbing at his temples then running his hands through his hair. Ethan snorted a soft chuckle and shrugged. 

"I _am_ pretty awesome," Ethan shot back, grinning at him and giving him a completely terrible wink. "Seriously, though. You should go home. I've pulled an extra twenty hours this week, Amy pulled eleven, Katheryn is verging on eight. We're way over our baseline. You can afford to go home on time," the younger man added, nudging their legs together momentarily. 

"I see Amy's taught you how to try and wrangle me into bed," Mark hummed back, only catching the double entendre when it was already out of his mouth. Silence hung heavy between them for a moment. 

"Pointing out work statistics and bringing you a bagel is _not_ how I'd get you into bed," Ethan announced quietly after a moment. Mark looked up in surprised curiosity, electricity settling on his skin as he recognised the subtle shift in the tone of the room. He tipped his head, making a soft sound. Oh? Wasn't _that_ interesting. When he spoke his voice was a low rumble. 

"How would you, then? Dress all pretty, make like a girl and wear short little skirts to get my attention?"

Ethan shuffled on the desk, cheeks heating and gaze dropping. It wasn't _just_ embarrassment - Ethan was sheepish, Mark realised. Caught out. And now Mark had two choices. 

He could diffuse. Make a joke about how Ethan wore bright colours and brought him food like some kind of bird, steer the conversation into neutral territory. Or he could stay on this track; see where it took them both.

He had a fairly good idea of where they'd end up. 

"Or is it all the bending over?" he continued, flipping his laptop shut and pushing it safely out of the way. "All the leaning against things, spreading your legs, maybe hoping I'd do what you want and slip between them?" Ethan's breath hitched at his words, cheeks stained red now but pupils blown and deep when he lifted his gaze, chewing nervously on his lower lip for a moment. 

"It hasn't worked so far," Ethan pointed out quietly. Mark let out a breath, fingernails digging into his own thighs. 

"Maybe I just like watching you work for it," he uttered, watching the way that Ethan looked up at him in surprise, mouth opening and closing for a moment before he inched a little closure, braced as though at any moment Mark was going to reveal a camera and declare it all a prank. "Maybe, I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to be brave and come to me". He hadn't been, not really, but Ethan made a soft sound at the predatory tone and shuffled closer, slipping past Mark's knee until he was sat on the edge of the desk right in front of him. 

"What would you do if I did?" Ethan asked cautiously, toying with the hem of his socks, shifting restlessly. Ethan was a ball of chaotic energy on his best of days; nervous he was likely to explode. Mark leaned forwards, resting his elbows on Ethan's knees and blinking up at him, fingers steepled. He stayed there for a moment, before asking carefully;

"What do you _want_ me to do?"

It was handing the reins over to Ethan - Mark's consent to be involved and his consent for Ethan to dictate how and where this went. Where he was _comfortable_ with this going. His partner enjoying themselves and wanting to be with him were two things that were an absolute must for whenever Mark had sex, and were not least two things that turned him on the most. Ethan seemed to ponder the question for a moment before shifting, sliding off the table and into Mark's space, straddling his lap and sinking down to sit there, arms draping loosely over his broad shoulders. 

"I'd let you kiss me," Ethan mumbled, gaze dropping down. 

"Won't that ruin your lipgloss, honey?" Mark asked teasingly, but before Ethan could snark back he leaned forwards, slow enough to give him time to change his mind, letting their lips brush together sweetly. Ethan's were soft, slick with plain chapstick. On his lap Ethan sucked in a sharp breath, as if he'd thought Mark wouldn't follow through, before he leaned forwards and chased the contact greedily. Mark let his hands fall to Ethan's hips, squeezing gently as he let him take what he wanted. 

Ethan was a good kisser - if a little eager and messy. He licked at the corners of Mark's mouth and sucked gently on his lower lip and softened each time Mark gentled or slowed the kiss, led easily. When Mark nipped at his lower lip Ethan's hips jerked and he reeled backwards. An apology was on the tip of Mark's tongue when Ethan grinned, squirming in his lap just enough that Mark had to grip hold of him with a low sound. 

"I can't believe I'm kissing Mark Fischbach," Ethan huffed, prompting Mark to roll his eyes, though it was nice that Ethan had said his name and not Markiplier; that he was being valued for the person he was away from the screens. He grumbled what could've been a _shut up_ and pulled Ethan in again, hands slipping a little lower on Ethan's waist when hands pawed at his arms, pushing them down. It'd been so long since he kissed anyone that Mark found himself lost in it, brought out some time later by the sound of his own gasp as something hot and heady twisted in his groin.

It prompted him to realise that Ethan was grinding against him, light little downward rolls of his hips, encouraged by Mark's hands on the small of his spine, a mere breath from his ass. When he blinked Ethan's mouth was kiss-swollen and dark, eyes glassy and panting a little. They must've been kissing for at least five minutes, especially when Mark shifted and startled to realise he was half-hard in his jeans, straining against the inside of Ethan's thigh. As if only just realising the same Ethan looked down between them, sliding his hips against the bulge and giggling a little.

"Something funny, Princess?" Mark rumbled, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, opening up easily when Ethan licked at him needily. Now that Ethan knew about it he seemed determined to include Mark's cock in the picture, grinding against him with renewed purpose. His skirt made for a thin barrier, betraying his own stiffness as Mark let himself lazily nudge up to meet Ethan's hips, groaning lowly into his mouth at the pleasant heat it created, pooling through his veins and thighs. After a moment Ethan pulled his hips back just enough to reach between them, palming him confidently. 

"Holy shit," the younger man breathed, pausing. "There's no way that'd fit in my pu-" Ethan cut himself off with a high sound, looking alarmed. It was too late, though. What he'd intended to say was clear and Mark slowly let one brow climb, tipping his head a little to look up at him, a half-smirk quirking the corners of his mouth. 

So there was that. 

And it was...Surprisingly easy to roll with, honestly. Like Ethan's femininity Mark found it simple to adjust to.

"I'm sure your little pussy could take it," he answered, eyes momentarily betraying the confidence his voice projected. He needn't have worried, though. After a moment of looking dumfounded Ethan surged against him, practically trying to climb down the back of his throat with how sloppily he kissed, fingers squeezing around Mark's girth, thumb rubbing firm little circles through the denim. His attention prompted a low growl that seemed to sit in Mark's throat, stoked at each little nip and suck, each breathy sound that Ethan made in response. Within a handful of minutes he was hard enough to hurt, grinding up into Ethan's palm hands fisting in Ethan's sweater so he wouldn't be tempted to slide them lower. 

Ethan had no such qualms. After a glance that telegraphed a request for permission he was fumbling with Mark's belt, letting out a soft gasp when Mark angled his hips to make it easier, sliding them together again. He reached up and cupped Ethan's jaw, kissing him once, twice, then running his thumb over Ethan's lower lip. It was promptly sucked into his mouth, cheeks hollowing, tongue against the pad, Ethan's lashes dipping low as he moaned quietly. As Ethan got his zipper down he tipped his head, exchanging Mark's thumb for his index and middle fingers, sucking greedily. 

"Who knew such a pretty baby had such a talented mouth?" Mark murmured lowly, watching in fascination, distracted enough that Ethan's fingers wrapping around his cock made him hiss, hips jerking so he pumped himself into Ethan's grip. It prompted a startled moan and Ethan's hand tightened, fingertips stroking over hot, velvet flesh as Mark pushed his fingers in a little deeper. His free hand had fallen without his permission, palm spread over the round muscle of Ethan's asscheek over his skirt, squeezing gently, kneading and directing Ethan's distracted movements. 

When Ethan pulled slowly off his fingers and guided his hand back with a deceptively shy glance, Mark went willingly. Beneath Ethan's skirt he was just wearing a pair of thin, feminine-cut cotton briefs and beneath that his skin was soft and shaved smooth, warm to the touch. When Ethan pushed him further Mark let him, brushing wet fingertips where Ethan wanted him most, feeling the muscle flutter against him. 

"Mm, it _would_ be a tight fit," he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "But I think your pretty little pussy's greedy enough to make room," he added teasingly, pressing just that little bit harder, feeling the muscle cave and listening to Ethan's needy, high whine. The editor's thumb rubbed at his leaking slit as his hips shoved back, both of Mark's fingers slipping past his tight, outer ring and an inch into the plush, velvet warmth of his hole. The sound Ethan made was unholy, sweet and begging for more as Mark shifted, trying to keep hold of him to stop him moving further. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, breaking the heady spell for a moment as he leaned back a little. Ethan looked a little blissed out and there was no trace of discomfort when he nodded, cracking a cheeky smile. 

"You were going too slow," Ethan teased, squirming in his lap, hands falling to Mark's chest when he growled and dragged him closer, so Ethan's spine was forced to arch and he went on his toes. Mindful of the lack of lube, Mark pressed his fingers in slowly, sliding into the warm squeeze of Ethan's body to the last knuckle, head tipped back to watch the way Ethan's mouth fell open and his lashes dropped, a shaky moan falling between them. He was clean inside and Mark wondered if that was coincidence or deliberate. He added just a little more pressure before pulling his fingers slowly to the middle knuckle, letting Ethan relax a little. 

"Bad girls with no manners get punished," Mark chastised, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Ethan's jaw as he crooked his fingers slightly, stroking along soft, hot flesh. Ethan was trembling in his gip, hands slowly sliding down his stomach to wrap clumsily around his leaking cock, drawing a soft sound of pleasure, his hips bucking up into the touch, cock throbbing and oozing a glob of pre-cum. It'd been so long he was leaking like a faucet at the slightest of touches, heat flooding his body as he grappled with the urge to spread Ethan out over the table and go to town. 

"I don't know what you were worried about, sweetheart," he growled after a moment. "Your little kitty's taking it so well. Doesn't even need real lube, 'it's swallowing me in so greedy," he purred, pumping his fingers in slow drags, down to the last knuckle and right to the tips of his fingers. Ethan was tight around him, little hole fluttering and doing it's best to suck him back inside each time he tried to withdraw. The slide was a little too dry to be completely smooth but Ethan didn't seem to care, head dropping down onto Mark's shoulder as he shivered, rocking back to meet each languid thrust. 

One of Ethan's hands drifted up into his hair, fingers tangling messily in the wavy locks, the other squeezing his cock lightly, pumping him in tight, steady movements. Mark found himself surprisingly content to sit behind the line of enough; to focus more on Ethan than his own completion, but the attention was certainly appreciated and well received. He could feel himself fattening, throbbing in Ethan's grip, eager to make the most of his first time with a partner in what almost felt like forever, and most certainly his first time with a man in almost five, maybe even six years.

Ethan squirmed over his lip, whining pitifully into his shoulder as he deliberately avoided his sweet spot, making fluid motions with his fingers and spreading them ever so slightly, mindful not to hurt him. 

"I bet with some slick your pussy would open right up," Mark murmured lowly, thrusting his fingers in deep and keeping them there. Ethan made a strangled sound, skirt hitched right up his thighs to reveal where he was hard, a damp spot spreading slowly over his briefs. 

"W-we could find out," Ethan uttered, collecting himself enough to lean back and up, pressing a lazy, distracted kiss to Mark's mouth and cheek. "I keep lube in the glove compartment of my car," he sounded shy as he said it, like he was expected Mark to mock him. 

"I'm not gonna fuck you on some rickety table in a public editing suite," Mark noted in amusement, leaning forwards to kiss him again, letting his fingers brush Ethan's sweet spot just lightly. "I'd lay you out properly. Maybe even in front of a mirror. Show you how pretty you look with your pussy stuffed".

Ethan whimpered, fingers flexing around Mark's cock as he shifted, pulling his hands away to cup Mark's jaw and pepper him with little kisses and kitten licks. "If I can make you cum in three minutes, would you reconsider?"

Mark arched a brow and tipped his head. "It might've been a while, but I can assure you I last longer than three minutes. Do your worst."

Truth be told, it took him a good fifteen at least on any given day. Hands just weren't the same as a plush, tight body or talented tongue. 

As if he could hear Mark's inner thoughts Ethan smirked, easing himself off Mark's fingers and shuffling back, dropping onto his knees between the table and Mark's flushed cock. 

"Cheat," Mark huffed at him, carding his clean fingers gently through Ethan's hair. 

"Start counting, Mark," Ethan shot back teasingly, before enveloping him in a slick, hot heat.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my writing and have something you'd like me to write, please don't hesitate to [send me a prompt.](https://krymmenosprompts.tumblr.com/)  
> Kaliumcyanid was kind enough to set up and monitor this page for me.  
> -JJH


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